


Redemption

by MyriamAO3



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: F/M, Genocide, Villains to Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29285286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyriamAO3/pseuds/MyriamAO3
Summary: “I do not want to be lectured about morals from people who clearly had questionable ones of their own,” Weyoun hissed.Weyoun 9 has just found out how the Federation tricked the Romulans into their Alliance and tried to commit genocide on the Founders; therefore, his patience wears thin in his conversations with Ezri and a historian from the Federation.At the same time, he learns from Eris about the disturbing true history of how the Vorta came to be the Dominion’s foremost administrators.
Relationships: Eris/Weyoun (Star Trek)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. The New Order of Things

**Author's Note:**

> Since Stephen King says, “To write is human, to edit is divine”, I would like to thank Laura for her divine contribution!

"Everywhere are factions. Neither the Great Link nor the Federation give me their unreserved support," Odo had said. "I need your help. You will have to cooperate with them. You will not like it at times. But it is the only way how I can get your people a normal life. And I want the Vorta to have a normal life."

*** 

“Weyoun! Is this how you pronounce your name?”

“Yes, that’s perfectly correct.” He put one of his winning smiles on his lips, lowered his gaze as if he were shy, and nodded.

“Welcome! I hope you find it comfortable here.”

“Thank you; I am so delighted to be here with you.”

Weyoun stood there, unsure which gesture of greeting the woman in front of him would initiate. As far as he could tell, she seemed to be from Earth. He knew there were several different greeting customs, dependent on the human’s ancestry amongst other parameters. He waited and glanced at her, but nothing happened, so he stayed there, slightly leaning forward with his arms to his side.

“I understand you arrived only a few days ago. Has everything been to your satisfaction so far?”

Weyoun was more than willing to go along with the pleasantries and responded graciously, “Absolutely. It appears like your people have spared no effort to create the most pleasurable experience possible.”

“Well, then please, have a seat.” The woman across him pointed to an office chair and gestured to Weyoun to sit down. She turned away and asked while walking to the replicator,

“Can I offer you something to drink? Water? Tea?”

“Oh, thank you, water would be fabulous.” He crossed his legs while resting his folded hands in his lap, a posture that always calmed him down and prepared him to deal with the adversaries he expected to come.

“Weyoun…I am wondering whether you have already received a briefing about the last couple of years since your previous clone died.”

Weyoun winced inwardly given the clinically correct, but not very empathic mention of his predecessor’s passing. However, he answered with a suave voice, “Odo was present at my activation and so kind as to inform me about everything necessary. Yes.” He took the first sip of his water.

“Odo. Odo is that changeling who lives with the Bajorans again?”

Weyoun took a deep breath, now forcing his smile. “Yes, Odo is the _Founder_ who sees to the relationship between what is left of the Dominion and the Alpha Quadrant.”

Indeed, Odo had been in attendance, when Weyoun 9 was activated in a new cloning facility in the Gamma Quadrant. When Weyoun gained consciousness and tried to sort out the memories from his predecessors appearing at the forefront of his mind, Odo had sat there, waiting for him to become responsive.

“He seems to think a great deal of you,” the woman suggested.

“It would be most gratifying if he did, but honestly, I believe he was never very fond of me.”

Weyoun thought of several times when Odo made it clear that he would prefer to be left alone by the Vorta, although he also recalled that they had developed a good working relationship when Terok Nor was under the administration of the Dominion. At their latest encounter in the cloning facility, Odo had seemed to be less gruff than usual. Instead, he had been almost friendly, even by Weyoun’s standards.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I believe Odo suggested that we choose you, and vouched for you to get your activation approved. Not without some modifications to your genetic code, of course.”

"Of course. I understand. Those modifications were necessary,” Weyoun replied smooth-tongued.

Weyoun had felt appreciative to be welcomed to his new life by a familiar face, but also immediately noticed that he didn’t feel the overwhelming submissive admiration he usually experienced in the presence of a Founder. Odo had explained to him that his genetic code had been resequenced. The Federation’s scientists had removed several genes deemed to be implemented by the Founders and included others they considered missing. Odo’s and the Federation’s long term plan was to rectify the Founders’ past actions by releasing the Vorta from their genetic servitude to the Founders and ensuring they could become an independent, self-reliant species. The Federation supported this plan in order to reduce the Founders’ power by freeing the Vorta and the Jem’Hadar from their influence.

The “Weyoun clone”, Odo told him, was the first resequenced Vorta, and Starfleet was keen to ascertain whether he could be a feasible result. Whatever this exactly meant, Weyoun had thought. He also wondered whether the Vorta would get a say in this at all? Surely, nobody had asked him.

The woman took a chair across him. “Oh, I realise I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Nedamali.”

“Nice to meet you, Nedamali,” Weyoun nodded with a cordial smile.  
  
“I would like to disclose the purpose of our meetings fully. As you are aware, I am a historian researching the conflict between the Federation Alliance and the Dominion. However, this research is being funded by Starfleet Intelligence. While it seems that the Great Link has been very quiescent since the Treaty of Bajor formally ended the Dominion War, Starfleet officials are still suspicious whether this treaty will last.”  
  
“That’s only reasonable to consider,” Weyoun acknowledged.  
  
“They are very much interested in the decision-making processes of the Dominion, and you were the centre stage of it. Anyway, there is only so much we can understand from logbooks. So thank you very much for participating and agreeing to answer my questions.”  
  
“Odo seemed to think it was a good idea to establish a bond of friendship between the Federation and the Vorta.”

Weyoun had felt hesitant when Odo explained to him the objective of his meetings with Nedamali. Although he sensed his unconditional loyalty to the Founders had vanished, the Dominion's welfare was still paramount to him. The idea of changing the order in the Dominion was risky as it could destabilise the entire Quadrant. But, he knew, this was not his to decide.

“Odo has convincingly argued how this cooperation will contribute to a peaceful coexistence of the Dominion with the Federation,” Weyoun continued, “This is a goal worth pursuing.”

Especially when the Dominion was about to be shaken up by such structural changes and would become vulnerable, he thought.  
  
Nedamali asked, “So where do we want to start?”  
  
“Wherever you deem suitable,” Weyoun replied softly.  
  
“Ah well, then: When people of the Federation encountered you for the first time, you were just a field supervisor.”  
  
Weyoun felt a slight sting and couldn’t resist correcting Nedamali. “The title of field supervisor is somewhat vague and might be prone to misinterpretation. In fact, a field supervisor is responsible for an entire sector’s … participation … in the Dominion, which can encompass several inhabited worlds.” Weyoun observed how she took notes by using a digital pencil and a padd.  
  
Nedamali stared at him emotionless. “But a few weeks later you accompanied Gul Dukat, and you were clearly the liaison between Cardassia and the Dominion, which seems to be a position with much higher responsibility. So you are saying that your prior experience with worlds of the Delta Quadrant qualified you to resume a similar role with the Cardassians.”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
“There would be hundreds of Vorta with similar qualifications. Why you?”  
  
He suppressed a sigh and put himself into a more positive mood in order to recount the events around the renegade Jem’Hadar and the Iconian Gateway.

“Oh, this is very easy to explain in my case: I had just encountered a group of Starfleet officers commanded by Captain Sisko from Deep Space Nine in the most startling coincidence and was fortunate enough to work with them. So, I was one of the few of my people to be experienced in dealing with officials from the Alpha Quadrant, in a mission considered to be successful.”  
  
“So the Founders decided to send you to negotiations with a potentially hostile species like the Cardassians despite your predecessor being killed by your own Jem’Hadar?”

Weyoun tried not to shudder - the thought of death was unpleasant even for a clone.

“See, you might find it counterintuitive, but you need to understand the Jem’Hadar and the Vorta are often not on best terms with each other. Such an incidence is unfortunate but meaningless to us.” He wondered for a moment how this came to be: Both species served the same gods, but often struggled to get along with each other for as long as he could remember.  
  
“All right, but your position still gained a lot more power, didn’t it?”  
  
“In a manner of speaking, I was just lucky I was assigned to meet with Gul Dukat, who was set on seizing power on Cardassia with our support. Given the turmoil and the aftermath caused by their military conflict with the Klingons, it was fairly uncomplicated to convince them to join the Dominion. Other Vorta were sent to other species but failed to forge a similar alliance. Yes, I think we can say it was just the luck of the draw.”  
  
Nedamali looked up from her note-taking. “It just seems odd the Dominion didn’t dispatch a more qualified delegate for such a delicate situation at the eve of their war with the Federation, but instead relied on someone still growing into such a role.”  
  
Weyoun’s smile faded from his face. He was not sure what grated him more, his suitability being subliminally questioned or the Dominion being accused of already preparing for war. “The Dominion was at peace! We hadn’t had large violent conflicts in decades! We were not seeking war; war was not our goal at all.”  
  
“Is that so?”

Weyoun prepared to answer how the Dominion tried to establish order to maintain peaceful coexistence between many species, but Nedamali continued:  
  
“Well, maybe we should talk about your experience with Cardassia and Gul Dukat first. We would like to understand how you forged your alliance.”  
  
Weyoun and Nedamali spent the next four hours analysing the ins and outs of Weyoun’s assignment on Cardassia and how he had come to be the Dominion’s face in the Alpha Quadrant overseeing the alliance with Cardassia. He gave an in-depth account of how the Maquis and the Klingons continued to attack Cardassia even after the official end of the war with the Klingon empire. The Dominion offered protection but also gave medical and economic support to a starving population.

He noticed that Nedamali’s questions in between had an undertone conveying scorn, which irritated him. He had observed how people from the Federation had a way of speaking their minds which showed contempt for him. Captain Sisko had been an excellent example of this trait when he abolished all rules of diplomacy and told Weyoun that he neither liked the Dominion nor him. In the past, Weyoun had never been bothered much by such behaviour since he never took it personally. How could he? He was merely dealing in the best interest of the Dominion and his gods; he was their tool. What a Vorta thought or felt had never mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How Weyoun and Dukat forged their alliance: AuroraWest’s “A Study in Egotism” is an enjoyable read. https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/24346480


	2. We Loved With A Love That Was More Than Love (Edgar Allan Poe)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I aligned the background story of Weyoun's progenitor and the Vorta’s history with AuroraWest’s “Anamnesis”, a fanfic I devoured, love, and recommend. https://archiveofourown.org/works/765837/chapters/1435039
> 
> In her story we meet the noble progenitor Weyoun Uldron, an ambitious young politician, and his wife Eris Arathoi, an academic in anthropologic archaeology. We learn about the events relating to the Founders’ arrival on Kurill through their eyes. The Epilogue mentions how their relationship continues as clones.
> 
> She also wrote about Weyoun’s and Eris’ encounters as clones beyond “Anamnesis” here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7776752/1/the-things-we-do-deserve-their-rightful-names

Weyoun felt unbridled happiness when he saw the Vorta running towards him with open arms ready to embrace him. “Eris!”

She almost overran him, gave him a stormy kiss, and smiled disarmingly.

They were in front of the Interplanetary Complex, which provided a home to representatives from other planets of the Gamma and the Alpha Quadrants. Their prime tenants were organisations who had come to Kurill to work on collaborative projects, but members of Starfleet were also abundantly present in the restaurants and shops. Eris had told him how several worlds of the Dominion had broken away now since its power structure was weakened, with some species considered a threat to the Vorta, as they might want to take revenge on them. Thus, several ships from the Federation supported the Jem’Hadar in patrolling the space around Kurill. Nedamali had her office in the building, but Eris also had meetings there on occasion; therefore, he had waited for her after meeting with Nedamali.

“So, how was your session with Starfleet. Or shall I say interrogation?” Eris asked.

“Not at all. Well, it wasn’t too bad. I sense there was the odd little barb here and there, but with these Federation people you cannot be sure whether they were intended or just careless choices of words.”

He swallowed the sense of disrespect he had felt. With their hands interlaced, they started walking through the park, which connected the Interplanetary Complex and their apartment complex. Although it was muggy, the monsoon was still a couple of weeks away, and Weyoun had become to appreciate being outside in this life.

“Why don’t they just use a mind probe? It would be faster and more precise,” Eris interrupted his thoughts.

“I understand mind probes are illegal in the Federation. With the war being over, there really is no way to justify such a tool,” he shrugged. “Although, I doubt Nedamali is just the researcher she claims to be. Historian, maybe, but not an academic. She acknowledges being funded by Starfleet Intelligence, but nevertheless, some of her questions are strangely out of place. It feels off.”

“An operative?”

“Possibly. Whatever, most importantly, I don't feel like I was activated only to be put in front of a propaganda trial as a prisoner of war,” Weyoun laughed.

Eris replied seriously, “No, the Female Founder was found guilty of genocide, and she is still in a Federation prison. Besides, Weyoun, you had already suffered the death penalty of sorts.” She gave him a little pat.

Weyoun grimaced as if he was suffering. “Odo made it very clear, the sole purpose of these meetings is for Nedamali to gain an understanding of how some of the decision processes of the Dominion work. But he also made it clear how I have no real other choices than to cooperate with the Federation if I want them to help the Vorta to become independent.” And to reduce the power of the Founders, that is, he thought. “This is the part of the agreement he emphasised: The Federation helps us, and I help the Federation with what I know.”

“Is this what you want?” Eris asked puzzled. “But we are very honoured to serve the Founders. We don’t need the Federation.”

He turned to her ignoring her demur, ”It is not bad when you think of it: I am allowed to go where I please - as long as I stay on Kurill of course -, and you are here with me,” he beamed at her.

He thought about the months his first clone had spent with Eris 1 on an assignment, about 250 years ago. They both recognised each other when they first met on an assignment, although they couldn't recall ever having seen each other before. They had felt like lovers who were overjoyed to meet after a long separation and didn’t require courtship; instead, it felt like continuing a long-standing relationship, though for a long time forgotten.

Both had concluded that their progenitors had known each other, although they remembered these lives faintly at best, just as a distant blur. The devices storing their memories were 1700 years old before the first clone was activated, and much of the information on them was faded. They had tried to piece together the few flashbacks: a familiar expression here, a mannerism there. But apart from a strong sense of deep trust and mutual commitment, the past stayed vague. Over their various lives, they met occasionally, but usually, their duties for the Dominion took precedence, which was the priority for both of them. _We served the Founders._

When he was activated this time and learned the war with the Federation had been over for four years, he enquired with Odo about her whereabouts and found out Eris 4 had moved to Kurill Prime after the war. Since Odo requested him to be available for discussions with Nedamali on Kurill, he contacted her and was more than pleased when she immediately proposed that he stay with her. At this thought, he pulled her closer and put his arm around her waist.

“And how is your work at the excavation site coming along?” he asked.

“It is going well. We already have quite a good understanding of the extent of the compound. And thanks to the new sensors we also understand the architecture inside. Just the content is challenging to discern. The other day we were able to retrieve an artefact which looked like a seat of some kind. But it contributed to the mystery: It again suggests a humanoid species of our size occupied this settlement.”

Weyoun frowned, “But you are still sure it predates the arrival of the Founders?”

“Yes, everything is suggesting so. By about 500 years, which is impossible, because the Vorta were still little ape-like creatures living in trees until the Founders gave us our current form 2000 years ago to transform us into powerful beings. This really is a mystery.”

Weyoun could sense how this preoccupied Eris. She has always been very dedicated to her work, whether it was in her service for the Dominion or now in her newfound role. No doubt, she would give it her all to unlock this conundrum.

“So some other humanoids were on Kurill?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Must be,” Eris replied, "But where did they go? Obviously, this tropical climate, with its relentless storms during monsoon, doesn’t leave much for us to discover. Everything starts rotting away the minute you leave it unprotected. We can be glad we found this artefact buried deep under a landslide. We were not expecting to find buildings pre-dating the Founders’ arrival, so it came as quite a surprise when it showed up on our scans. I mean, ever since the Founders elevated us Vorta into their service, this planet was uninhabited by higher lifeforms.”

“And if you don’t mind me asking: there is no other evidence of these humanoids?”

Eris stared pensively to the ground. “I didn't want to mention it before we have the results from further analyses, because it is ... very sensational if it is true.”

“Go ahead! You have my full attention.” Weyoun cocked his head.

“And before you were pretending!” She laughed, only to become immediately serious again. “We also found humanoid remains, Vorta to be precise. Not proto-Vorta, but an anatomically modern Vorta.”

Weyoun looked puzzled. ”How?”

“We don’t know. That’s why we are waiting for the genetic analyses to confirm this is indeed a Vorta.”

“But you mentioned the site is 500 years from before the Founders returned and transformed us into our today’s form?”

“I am glad your brain is still able to process information beyond waging wars, swaying peoples, and smooth-talking. Although you are particularly skilful in the latter.” Eris raised one eyebrow and gave him a sarcastic smile, to which he nodded resignedly. “We don't understand this yet, because it is not logical. However, it is too early to hypothesise, let alone to draw conclusions. There is a lot we need to analyse.”

“My dearest, surely, you will find more clues to solve this problem,” Weyoun asserted reassuringly.

“Well, it is only four years since the Founders allowed us to leave our positions in the Dominion and we are all laypeople learning how to do this as we go. I am glad I can turn my interest into my profession. Though, it’s quite a tough gig at times.”

Weyoun looked at her proudly, confident she would succeed. Eris had a laser-sharp mind with a tongue to go with. A confident, strong woman who challenged him often with a mocking smile; he was glad she seemed to love him, too, over multiple lifetimes.

“I much esteem your intelligence. Besides, you have always had an aptitude for everything ancient. I remember your work on the Iconian gateway was groundbreaking. Before the rogue Jem’Hadar took over.”

Eris sighed. “It was such a shame we had to destroy the gateway after it got into the hands of those Jem’Hadars. With the gateway, we could have deployed our troops to the Alpha Quadrant efficiently. Anyway, I agree, archaeology is my calling, no doubt. However, for the research, we rely heavily on experts from other worlds.” She gave a humourless laugh, “People from the Daystrom Institute from the Federation.”

“Ah, the Federation,” he repeated with cloying sweetness. “They are everywhere these days, aren’t they? Tell me, with how much certainty is the dating correct?”

“We have applied almost every method available. Electron spin resonance, optically stimulated luminescence dating, uranium-thorium dating, you name it. We are currently waiting for the mitochondrial DNA analysis, which we hope might have survived despite the moist climate here on Kurill.”

“What if this turns out to be Vorta remains 500 years before the return of the Founders?” She looked somewhat uneasy. “We will find an explanation.”

“Surely,” Weyoun answered with little conviction. He was surprised how this piece of information raised his suspicion about the history of how the Vorta came to be, according to the Founders. He would have considered his thoughts heresy in his previous life, but now he was not so sure about the Founders anymore. He was willing to accept parts of the Vorta’s history might have to be re-written.


	3. Oh Shame, Where Is Thy Blush? (William Shakespeare)

Weyoun looked around the meeting room. This one looked a lot more inviting than Nedamali’s office, which had a large conference desk and chairs with an overall practical, not to say sterile ambience. Here he found it warm and inviting: armchairs, couch, a coffee table, a thick carpet, several plants; even paintings and a little statue decorated the room. A thoughtful scene-setting to put him at ease, to create a friendly atmosphere, he mused. It was something he had done in the past, too, when he wanted to keep negotiations amenable.

Ezri jumped off the couch and squeezed his arm to greet him, “Long time no see, Weyoun.”

“Ah. Technically correct, but it feels like it was only a few weeks ago. At least for me,” he laughed.

Meetings with her were according to Odo another part of the deal with the Federation. Odo had tried to make them palatable by emphasising how much Weyoun would benefit from talking to a joined Trill with previous hosts. He was supposed to leave a good impression, however. Just the idea of meeting a counsellor had been unpleasant because they were, besides empaths and telepaths, least likely to be swayed. Since their last encounter had been under unfavourable circumstances, he felt the need to defuse their past.

“Firstly, I really would like to apologise for how my previous me treated you. Mistakes were made. I cannot deny I was showing completely unacceptable behaviour towards you,” Weyoun confessed to Ezri, with a facial expression of genuine contrition.

He reflected on how Ezri and Worf had been prisoners of the Dominion. His allusions to Ezri’s relationship with Worf and her feelings for Bashir didn’t seem appropriate to him anymore: they lacked any purposeful goal other than taunting his prisoners. At the time it had made sense, but now he felt embarrassed because the entire episode contradicted his self-image as a sophisticated gentleman.

“Oh, no, no, please don’t worry. It wasn’t that bad at all, I mean, it was war,” she stuttered, “I mean, you didn’t roll out a red carpet, but it could have been a lot worse. And it wasn’t actually you? I mean, what I want to say: it was, but not really - right? You would be the wrong Weyoun to blame.” Her hands were vigorously gesticulating while she spoke, underpinning how disorganised her thoughts felt. “We Trill have a clear understanding that the actions of our previous joined hosts are not our responsibility. We remember them, but we don’t own them.”

“I can see this is what you truly believe, and it means a lot to me,” he tried a little smile, observing with amusement how she was fidgeting. “At times, I don’t understand myself anymore either, you see,” he commented gracefully and was surprised how true his confession felt the moment he made it.

She looked excited, “I totally understand what you are saying! I mean, it’s why I asked Odo whether I could meet up with you. After all, I have some experience in what it is like to look at a previous life, wondering whether this was me or not and how much am I myself or Dax or a previous host.” She paused for a moment to organise her confusion. “We Trill say we are one, but we are also many. Where do I stop? Are they all me? It is often not easy to exclude the previous hosts from my current life. It is only natural that you start questioning some aspects of your past.”

Weyoun hesitated, but given he had found some of his memories quite unsettling in this life, he wanted her to continue to talk and commented politely, “How insightful of you to understand the challenges coming with experiencing multiple lifetimes! It could make a most intriguing conversation since your views as a symbiont are not dissimilar from those of a Vorta clone.”

“Weyoun, believe me, I really do know how all these past lives can mess with you,” Ezri giggled. “At times it can be funny, but more often it’s not. Amongst my previous hosts was a murderer, Joran. He has interfered with my life occasionally, but he has been useful, too.”

“A murderer?” Weyoun queried surprised. Ezri grimaced, “I am not very proud of it. Usually, I keep him locked out of my consciousness.”

Weyoun nodded, “I have always thought it as an advantage to be a clone who can draw upon the expertise of a long compounded life-span. But it comes with a price because unlike Trills, I cannot suppress my predecessors’ memory into a corner of my consciousness.” Ezri acknowledged, “I can see how remembering everything all the time can be uncomfortable.”

“That’s an understatement,” Weyoun blurted. Then he tried to choose his words more carefully, “I am forced reluctantly to admit it can be unpleasant, indeed.”

Ezri smiled encouragingly, “I totally get what you are saying. This life aside: Did you feel any different from one clone to another?”

He hesitated for a moment, before explaining slowly “No… usually it is akin to waking up after a long sleep - typically a couple of days after the passing of our predecessors - and continuing where I left before. Maybe some nuances change, but then also the circumstances change. But I am not sure what causes some of these nuances to change.”

But the 6th Weyoun incarnation was intriguing, he thought. “I truly wonder myself now what had happened to the defector,” he said to Ezri. “We know from the records his genome was unchanged. But he made choices, interpreted things differently. It is very curious how he still believed in the Founders as gods, but chose to be loyal to Odo only. He chose, you see. I don’t remember ever having had a choice; I could not choose my heart to stop beating!”

Ezri wondered, “If Weyoun 6 had the same genome, then the imprinting had changed? And weakened his god gene?”

“Either the god gene or more likely the one which demanded obedience. He was devoted to Odo, I hear, thus still believing in the Founders as gods.” He looked back to Ezri with a small forced smile, nodding to encourage her to speak again.

“So do you now feel different from your previous clones?” she asked. ”Odo told me the geneticists have tried to reverse all the genetic changes made by the Founders.”

“True. From what Odo told me they looked at genes identical in all Vortas and removed them. I believe they applied a couple of twists here and there as well, but I don’t know all the details. Most striking is the absence of the god gene, though.” Weyoun explained to her how the mere idea of gods had become utterly foreign to him now;how the submissiveness he had felt in his previous lives was inconceivable.

Ezri couldn’t help laughing, “Your Founders did exaggerate it a bit with the devotion they demanded.”

When Weyoun looked at her quizzically, she continued, “Most species do develop some level of religiosity - it seems to give them an evolutionary advantage in their early development, but it usually fades once they learn to apply science.”

“Well, then I am delighted that we will belong to those leaving religiosity behind in the future. I look forward to a time when our species does not depend on a higher power’s mercy,” he replied with a shy smile. “In the mean-time, I indulge in the awakening of my senses. Apparently, there was enough space on my chromosomes to reintroduce all senses, for example. It is an overwhelming experience to be exposed to so many impressions.”

He felt he was back on safe ground when he started to describe his heightened senses of smell and taste and how he now enjoyed the stimulation from little things, such as the red flowers with their beautifully sawtooth-shaped petals next to his apartment. His eyes sparkled in a light purple when he thought of them and how he had spent a couple of hours trying to soak in all details - from the slightly hairy stems to the little freckles near the pistil. He had never cared for such traits before, but now they were intriguing.

Ezri did not probe further, but accepted his change of topics, “I am so glad you are having a good experience now, Weyoun! It must be amazing to appreciate this all for the first time and to be in awe!”

Weyoun felt relieved to see Ezri so excited and easily steered towards lighter topics, away from him. “Yes, it is a very joyous time for me at the moment,” he answered with conviction. “It is a world worth exploring.”

Remembering his previous lives on space stations and Jem’Hadar fighters, he was glad this life could be different. Weyoun realised that he was looking forward to a future where the Vorta returned to Kurill Prime to start a new civilisation. Odo had given the Vorta a gift by organising geneticists to free the Vorta from their genetic chains to the Founders. He just wished they could achieve this without the Federation’s help.


	4. In War, Truth Is The First Casualty (Jeff Greenfield)

When he entered the little apartment he shared with Eris, he saw her sitting cross-legged on the couch in deep concentration studying documents in the holographic projection in front of her. She briefly looked up at him, waved with a quick smile to acknowledge him, and then kept staring intensely at the documents.

Weyoun returned her smile when he curled up next to her on the couch, putting his head on her lap. He studied her serious face, which was in deep concentration. With one hand, she started to stroke through his thick black hair without turning her focus away from her work.

He sighed, closed his eyes, and spent several minutes trying to shake off his last thoughts about another morning with Nedamali’s questions by concentrating on Eris’ caress, feeling her cold fingers on his head. Never would he have allowed someone to touch him this close to his neck, where he used to have his termination implant in previous lives. Not even Eris. This was an area of the body all Vorta were very sensitive about. Now, he enjoyed it.

“5 more minutes,” she pulled one of his ears playfully. 

Weyoun sat up and looked at Eris’ holographic documents while she scrolled through them. He wiped some loose curls back, kissed her hand happily, and went to the replicator to order dinner.

“What new recipe will you try today?” she asked from her seat.

“It is called Dhal on rice. It is a dish from Earth. Supposedly, it has gained popularity beyond Earth. But really, I don’t want to interrupt your work. You seem to be very immersed, and it is such important work!”

“No, I do like your culinary experiments.”

“Well, I am not so sure about this one, to be honest. The dish is a suggestion by a cultural guide for Earth I found in the database. As you might have noticed, recommendations for alien foods have been rather fanciful so far.” 

He put the plates with cutlery on the table, sat down and left his hands folded on his lap while he waited for her to join. He furrowed his brows when he inhaled the steam. This dish seemed to contain lots of ethereal oils, which started tingling his nose.

Eris came over, sat down, and took a spoon full. She grimaced, “The sort of grainy porridge many species feed their offsprings.” She cocked her head to analyse the colours.

Weyoun exhaled after his first bite. “Yes, but with fire!” Sweat appeared on his forehead, and his eyes started to water. He coughed a little bit. 

Eris started laughing at Weyoun’s expression. “Sorry, but it is hilarious to see how food affects you now. You are quite persistent for someone who suffers so much.”

“It is… painful in a nice way. I feel warm and clean now that the pain has subsided. But I agree, texturally it is not very enticing.” He took a tissue to wipe his face.

Eris poked around in her food, “Well, my next me will understand what you are talking about. It feeds me, that’s all I care about right now.”

“Right, I completely understand.”

Eris put a sly smile on her face and stroked one foot up his leg. “Weyoun, what other senses have been enhanced now? Anything worthwhile?”

He turned his attention to her in surprise. “No, our sense for touching hasn’t changed. Apparently, the Founders left them intact,” he answered with his face getting a slight purple tint from blushing. “I can only assume the Founders thought it would be useful to find it pleasurable for Vorta to engage with others in whatever manner necessary,” he smiled shyly. This was not a topic he wanted to discuss with Eris as some of his assignments as Weyoun 3 had required some interpersonal “deployment”.

Eris observed him, “I won’t hold it against you.”

He got up, cupped her head. “You know what has changed? Now I can see you are beautiful,” he whispered. 

They both looked at each others’ eyes with earnest, but tender faces.

She cleared her throat, “Our progenitors. We have gained access to many files from the times when we Vorta became the Dominion’s foremost servants, but I haven’t found anything yet about our progenitors. We make progress in restoring these files, but this will take time, too. Maybe we won’t find anything. In the meantime, we have to trust our instincts.” She then added with a laugh, “And boy, our instincts were strong, when Eris 1 met Weyoun 1!” She gave him a short hard kiss on his mouth.

“It is comforting to know that some things endure,” Weyoun smiled with affection.

Serious again, she asked between two spoonfulls, “What is it like when you meet these Federation people?”

Weyoun tried to choose his words carefully, “I find them remarkably different from each other. The Trill is very kind to share her experience as a symbiont with the memory of several hosts, which I find exceedingly beneficial. Nedamali, on the other hand, is certainly very professional. She has a long check-list of questions, but sometimes I get the odd sensation that she is not interested in my answers. I think she already has formed an opinion and it barely matters what I say.” When he saw her observant glance, he added, “However, this all doesn’t need to concern you.”

“It does concern me because you are very tense every time you meet Nedamali.”

“Oh my, will I ever be able to hide anything from you?” he chuckled.

“No, not after knowing you for so many lifetimes.”

They returned to the couch, where she steered her attention back to her work while Weyoun reclined next to her. He peeped over to the holographic projections, which seemed to be short clips of speeches and interviews with various Vorta. Now and then he could see a Founder. He stretched his neck to get a better view.

“Just freshly reconstructed. We think it is from the time just after the Founders had returned. But there is no sound yet. I am trying to figure out what information we could extract from these clips.”

He hummed to confirm he was listening.

“We found data carriers in another compound unrelated to the first one. But this compound was not buried in a landslide; instead, it is located in the far north where the monsoon storms are milder. It was also a bit younger, probably from the time of the second arrival of the Founders. There were burn marks - a fire had wrecked the top of the building entirely. We were lucky to have found these data carriers almost intact.”

Weyoun digested the information for a minute. “Again, a building inhabited by modern Vorta when there shouldn’t have been such?”

“So you are paying attention to what I tell you,” she smiled with a glance at him. “It all adds to the mysteries we discover.”

Weyoun rolled to his side and started playing with her toes. “And what kind of burn marks? On a planet with this humidity?”

“Very high temperature. About 4000K.”

Weyoun thought about the possible causes for such a high temperature and then straightened himself up abruptly, “A weapon?”

“The thought has crossed our minds,” she replied with a careful facial expression maintaining her professional distance.

Weyoun realised that, although he was always listening to what Eris told him about her work, he never spent more than a few thoughts on them because he was too consumed with reliving his last years of the Dominion War. 

“What happened with those humanoid remains you found on the first site - the one under the landslide?”

Now Eris turned to him, piercing him with her eyes, “It was a Vorta. One who genetically resembled you as you are now. He was not genetically altered to serve the Founders; instead, we found many genes relating to senses, arts, and fertility. In all likelihood, the Federation has identified genetic changes by the Founders for the most part correctly.”

Hearing he was similar to the original Vorta had a nice ring to it, he found. Weyoun cocked his head, waiting for more explanations because, so far, accepted wisdom amongst Vorta was that they were ape-like tree-dwellers before the Founders genetically altered them. This was evidently not the case, but when Eris turned her head away with an almost defiant face, he knew better than to probe further. It was obvious she understood the implications but didn’t want to discuss them.

He grabbed his padd, leaned back and wondered how much of the history the Founders had told them was truthful at all. What Eris and her team uncovered was hardly compatible.


	5. War Begets War (Pope Francis)

Weyoun jumped off his chair and started pacing through the room. He stared at Nedamali with his eyes glowing in a deep angry purple. With a forceful sharp tone, he exclaimed, “The Dominion was not the aggressor. We had asked the Federation to leave us alone in the Delta Quadrant, but instead, ships were still entering the wormhole, and the Defiant went on explorations with a cloaking device! We had to defend ourselves against these constant violations of our territory! The incursions had to stop!”

Nedamali looked up from her notes but kept her face in her usual aloof expression.

 _She watches me like I am a specimen in a lab_ , Weyoun thought furiously.

“Why did the Dominion then choose to destroy the colony New Bajor instead of first contacting the settlers and trying to find a diplomatic solution?”

Weyoun hesitated. He hadn’t been directly included in those debates but vaguely remembered his Vorta colleagues discussing the case. “No species can be so naive to think there was any space still being unclaimed. If you had peaceful intentions, you would surely first try to contact the owners instead of just occupying a planet as if it was in no one’s possession. Even if there was no military presence in this sector at the time, that didn’t mean the planet where you founded New Bajor was _terra nullius_.”

These conversations drained him. His head was spinning from how everything the Dominion did seemed to be twisted until things that were right became wrong. The Federation was so smug about their alleged moral superiority. Clearly, history was written by the victors, and these people wanted to call their invasion ‘colonisation’.

“You people knew the Dominion existed,” Weyoun snapped, “Don’t you people ask first whether you are welcome before entering someone else’s territory?”

“Hm. Yes. So who decided to attack?” If Nedamali had noticed Weyoun’s deviation from his usually well-tempered even explanations, then she didn’t acknowledge it.

Weyoun wondered for a moment why he cooperated with this farce and was still answering her questions. A proper understanding of the Dominion’s positions was undoubtedly not her goal.

Then he pulled himself together because Odo had asked him to cooperate for the sake of the Vorta’s future. His face became expressionless while he thought about Nedamali’s question. Eris would have been on the team deciding to attack the colony, for sure, as she was assigned to the sector at the time. However, it had never come up in a conversation. “It would have been a group of Vorta, but I was not part of it, so I can’t give you details.”

Nedamali seemed to accept his answer. “Now, back to the changelings and their involvement. We have accounts they were their strategy was mostly hands-off and they were delegating the operations to the Vorta.”

Weyoun’s voice was calmer as he replied: “This is exactly how it happened. The _Founders_ usually don’t concern themselves with day-to-day operations. However, we included them in larger decisions or when their participation was required.”

“Would you then say the Vorta made decisions like attacking Deep Space Nine, and attempting to neutralise the Romulans and the Klingons?”

“No, no, not at all. At least not all of them.” He gave a little embarrassed laugh and waved his hands dismissively. Then he leaned forward, explaining with a conspiratorial expression: ”For example, several Founders participated in the operations with Romulans and Klingons, but also with the ones concerning the Federation. As shapeshifters, their abilities to take on new identities and replace the original persons was invaluable to undercover operations, but no Vorta could have asked them to do this. Such suggestions came from the Great Link when we presented our concerns with certain species.”

“Is this how a changeling became a participant in leading a fleet of Tal Shiar and the Obsidian Order into the Battle of the Omarion Nebula? By the Vorta presenting intelligence to the Great Link?”

“I personally was not part of this team,” Weyoun responded, his voice rising, “But it is my understanding it was Enabran Tain, former head of the Obsidian Order, who came up with the infamous idea to destroy the Founders’ homeworld and commit genocide on the Founders. It was decided to carry the Battle of the Omarion Nebula forward with the help of a Founder who resumed the Romulan Lovok’s position. He ensured we were able to eliminate this threat once and for all. I call this self-defence.” He almost spat the last sentence.

Nedamali remained composed. “But what about when you decided to take over Deep Space 9?”

“Yes, this was a decision made in consensus with our Cardassian partners.” Weyoun felt again satisfied with his cooperation with Gul Dukat. _Say what you want, the Cardassian had an excellent strategic mind and understood the demands of war. Though, his hubris led to the loss of Terok Nor._

He took a deep breath and straightened himself up to declare friendly, but assertively, looking straight at Nedamali, “Captain Sisko had lied when he claimed he would discuss with Starfleet to take down the mines if we restricted our convoys to Cardassia to medical and economic assistance. It was undeniable he had no such intentions.”

“Did _you_?” Nedamali looked right back at him with a neutral face.

Weyoun’s eyes widened and turned deep purple from his indignation. “Of course, we did! Why would I have come to the station to negotiate? I would not have confronted him if I hadn’t wanted to find a peaceful solution! You see, if war or the occupation of Deep Space 9 had been our goal we could have started immediately without paying a visit to Captain Sisko! But no, an opportunity for the beginning of peaceful cooperation between our peoples was wasted by activating the minefield!”

“Some would say you tried to buy time?” Nedalami’s emotionless reserve was maddening.

“This is absurd. You are very presumptuous about my motives. If we had attacked immediately, we could have stopped the activation of the minefield. The only winner from our attempt to negotiate was the Federation because it gave _you_ the time you needed.” He pointed his index finger at her, exhausted from her twisted perceptions of the past.

This all made no sense. “Besides, as you surely are well aware, we signed a non-aggression-pact with Bajor. We agreed on a joint administration of the station with representatives from the Dominion and Bajor. Hence, Starfleet was formally requested to turn the station over to the Bajoran government, to which they did not comply.” He added derisively: “Next are you going to tell me it was an occupation?”

She gazed at him apathetically. “No, but I was going to ask you what it was like to work with Dukat. Maybe we should postpone this to our next session. Our time is up for today.”

Weyoun exhaled in relief and frustration, glad to have more time to organise his thoughts. On the way home, he contemplated how incredibly proud he had felt about how he had handled Bajor. Why didn’t Nedamali ask what he had done for Bajor? Weyoun rolled his eyes: _Oh my, did I just sound like the insufferable Gul Dukat?_ He had heard Dukat’s narcissistic extenuations about how he had improved the lives of Bajorans, his so-called children, too often. In fact, Weyoun had to stop Dukat in his tracks and remind him of the non-aggression pact with Bajor. It had been imperative to Weyoun to be able to show the Alpha Quadrant that the Dominion respected treaties. At the time, he had hoped he could avoid further escalation.

Well, he had also wanted to leave a good impression with Odo, Weyoun admitted to himself. With Odo’s love interest in Major Kira, it was paramount to protect Bajor from Dukat’s obsession with the planet and its people. He enjoyed thinking back to his time on the space station, especially working with Odo, but also his encounters with the young Jake Sisko, and Ziyal. But instead, he had to brace himself to more of Nedamali’s probing.

****

After his last encounter with Nedamali, Weyoun realised he needed to know more about the Federation’s point of view that her assumptions were based on. While he found some of her insinuations outright offensive, at other times, he wondered about the purpose of her questions. He had spent several days reading books about the war between the Federation Alliance and the Dominion and was particularly impressed by the work of a Vulcan journalist, who had prized himself as an objective author, not taking any sides.

Now he stood at the window of a meeting room in the Interplanetary Complex waiting for Ezri. With his hands clasped behind his back, he watched the trees swaying with the wind, when he heard Ezri entering. He turned around to observe how Ezri balanced a cup with a hot steaming liquid in one hand, and several padds and a bag in the other. One padd fell out of her grip, so she dropped the bag and put the cup and the remaining padds on the table to pick up the one on the floor. Weyoun let a warm smile appear on his lips when he saw her flustering.

She finally fell into her arm-chair as he sauntered towards her with his hands still behind his back.

“Lots of work,” he nodded towards the pile of padds.

“Yeah. Lots of meetings with lots of people who all have opinions on what should be happening on Kurill.”

“And the Vorta.” He took his arms forward and crossed them in front of his chest. Squinting, he asked, “And what is the current plan?”

Ezri shrugged, “The same as all along. Odo wants the Vorta to become independent, and we are a team of people who make plans on how to implement the transition.”

He suspiciously eyed her up, but all he saw was her innocently looking at him. “It is touching to know the Federation puts so much effort into an orderly changeover,” he remarked mockingly.

“Weyoun, what have you been up to that you are so snarky today?”

He returned to his usual polite demeanour. “My apologies. You don’t deserve any malice against you. It appears I have been reading too many history books lately.”

“I think this sounds like a good thing!”

“It is. It broadens my perspective.”

“Care to elaborate?”

He sat down next to her, releasing a sigh. “Whenever I meet Nedamali, we dissect the activities of the Dominion. Even though she presents herself as impartial, I cannot help feeling like we are portrayed as some evil, bloodthirsty power.”

He leaned forward until his face was close to hers and whispered, “Turns out the Federation doesn’t quibble about the minute details of morals either, after all. Care to know?” He chuckled. “Your Captain Sisko was not squeamish in his choices when it came to neutralising the Maquis. Destroying your own colony and making an entire planet uninhabitable to all human life for 50 years, just to catch one man. Impressive! Or how the Romulans were tricked into joining the war on the Federation’s side.”

Ezri looked at him, questions in her eyes.

Weyoun leaned back again, crossed his legs and continued with normal volume. “Did you know the Romulans entered the war because they received a data rod where I supposedly discuss a plan to attack Romulus? I can assure you, this conversation with Damar never happened. There was no such plan. Oh, what would I give to tell the entire Alpha Quadrant about your spin-doctors’ forgery!”

Ezri started to speak but Weyoun interrupted, saying sarcastically, “Of course, I won’t. We are all friends here now!” He hit his fist on the table next to him.

Then he pointed his index finger at her to emphasise his words: “But the greatest of all crimes is how your people infected the Founders with the morphogenic virus to kill them all.”

Ezri looked unnerved, “Weyoun, you’re right, during war, all sides resort to dishonourable acts. At least it was publicised and not covered up. We are not proud of it. But it did help ending a war that would have cost many more billion of lives.”

Weyoun hissed, “I do not want to be lectured about morals from people who clearly had questionable ones of their own.” He paused for the effect. “Do you know how I sometimes feel when I talk to Nedamali? According to some of her allusions, I must be a monster.”

“Weyoun, you are not a monster. You are a normal Vorta and actually quite a nice guy when given the opportunity. The people who met you at the time of the Dominion’s occupation of Deep Space Nine describe you as approachable and measured. Nedamali knows that - she had conversations with all of us about you.”

Weyoun decided to ignore the term “occupation” but acknowledged her statements with a faint smile.

Ezri leaned forward as if she were sharing confidential information, “Between the two of us: I am not impressed by Nedamali’s interpersonal skills. I don’t think she is deliberately that way; she just doesn’t care enough about people to connect with them.”

“Truer words were never spoken.”

“You know, we all have to live with our past, but at least you can claim for yourself you had no choice!”

“I don’t want to deny how much comfort that gives me,” Weyoun said ruefully. ”Nevertheless, I cannot ignore the picture people get from me based on some of the less well-researched books about the war. I feel my conversations with Nedamali are in vain if this smut influences her,” Weyoun sighed.

“Well, it is unfortunate, but no-one can control their public image. However, I assure you, Nedamali has an independent mind. My conversations with her suggest she has an astonishing in-depth knowledge about the war from the Dominion’s point of view as well.”

Weyoun knocked his index finger on the table to underpin his words, “It is not conducive for the future friendship between the Federation and the Vorta if such unflattering perceptions of us exist.”

Ezri took his hand and looked him in the eyes, “Weyoun, this is your opportunity. You can change perceptions. Yes, you can explain the Dominion’s perspective of the events. But what is more important, every time you meet with Nedamali or me, you have shown to be a reliable partner for the future. You cooperate, but you are not a sycophant. At least not all the time anymore,” she giggled. “It is a fine line, which you can only walk because you can freely think now. We count on you and your participation. Nobody will forget, reconcile, or forgive the past immediately, but with time it will become easier.”

Not convinced, Weyoun cocked his head but decided to rest his case.


	6. God is Dead (Friedrich Nietzsche)

Weyoun woke up because something warm and heavy was on top of his chest. He had no idea how long he had slept, but it was pitch-dark outside.

“Eris?” He smiled and squinted, not ready to open his eyes fully.

He had already gone to bed before she came home, as he knew she would return late from a meeting with other researchers from the archaeological project relating to the times of the Founders’ second arrival. She probably had just come back home as she was still wearing her formal clothes. Then he realised how upset she looked. Judging from the way she studied his face while she leaned on him, she had just waited for him to wake up.

“What concerns you, dear?” he stroked her back.

“How many clone profiles of Vorta exist?” she asked with a stern face while sliding off him and sitting up straight.

It didn’t look like she was going to let him sleep any more, so he decided to sit up as well.

“I think 80 or 90,000? Not all of them are activated all the time, so it’s only an educated guess.” He blinked as she had turned the light on.

“Do you know how many Vorta lived here when the Founders came back 2000 years ago and made good on their promise to elevate us so we could be their foremost servants?” her voice had an unusual shrill sound.

He looked at her with a blank face as he was still barely awake.

“Two billion,” she spoke slowly with exaggerated pronunciation. "The remainder vanished unaccounted for."

Now Weyoun turned pale and exhaled, “How is this possible?”

“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?”she asked with sarcasm dripping voice.

“What is the evidence?”

She started pacing up and down in their bedroom. “We were able to restore a number of those ancient data carriers.”

“If you could spare me a second, are these the data carriers you were working on the other day?” Weyoun interrupted her, as he still struggled to organise the information in his sleepy brain.

“Yes, those and a few more my colleagues have worked on. We have found documents about Vorta history and mentions about various cities inhabited by humanoid Vorta. All relating to a time before the Founders returned to make good on their promise to elevate us. We have found out that the Vorta had a well-developed society with electronic media, transport, and architecture.”

Weyoun noticed how Eris accepted the existence of humanoid Vorta at the time of the Founders’ arrival without hesitating. This alone would have been a scandalous finding a few weeks ago.

“Nothing adds up,” Eris continued, “In these files, we also found a lot of news footage with journalists and politicians having discussions about whether to join the Dominion or not. The news discusses a proposal for the genetic sampling of the masses as part of the accession contract, which seemed to be controversial.”

Now concerned, Weyoun asked: “Do you think our people resisted joining the Dominion?”

“Who knows. The last footage of Kurill showed explosions and hinted at a war. Everything is possible,” Eris answered flatly.

Weyoun thought of the compound with burn marks they had found and felt his stomach churning.

He remarked with a grave expression, “Surely, you will find a reason for the disappearance of so many of our people,” and then pressed his lips together.

He reflected on how Weyoun 8 had ordered the Jem’Hadar to kill all Cardassians in retaliation of their resistance movement. The Founders always expected the Vorta to reinstate order at all cost, but when the Cardassian people turned against the Dominion, the Founder on Cardassia wanted them all eradicated. And he had served her - in all things. Weyoun imagined how someone else had served the Founders two thousand years ago. They probably tried to include the Vorta into the Dominion peacefully first. When it failed, they would have found more convincing arguments by letting the Jem’Hadar lay fire on Kurill with phaser canons.

She sat down next to him and whispered, “There must be an explanation. Our gods must have had reasons to keep only so few clone profiles. And the remainder of the population,” she laughed with a sound of desperation in her voice, “Well, I am sure there is a valid explanation why they disappeared suddenly. We just haven’t found it yet, right?”

“Maybe they didn’t want to become part of the Dominion?” he spoke softly, studying Eris’ face, which went through several emotions from anger to angst.

Weyoun reached out to squeeze her shoulder. He could sense how Eris’ devout belief in the divinity of the Founders struggled to accept the possibility that they had committed genocide on the Vorta - their own people. She looked for a justification when there was none. He knew, his previous incarnations would have done so, too.

“They are our gods, and they don’t make mistakes,” she mumbled more to herself, but then pierced Weyoun with a glance.

He took her hands, leaned his forehead against hers and whispered: “They are no gods. There are no gods.”

“This is not true! How can you think that?” she hissed exasperated.

Weyoun sighed and leaned back. He was tired, not only because of the early time in the morning but also because he was still trying to come to terms with his own heretical thoughts. “You know why. Believing in the Founders as gods is just an illusion you have because they have programmed it into your genes. Once the geneticists remove the gene, you will stop believing. There will be nothing left.”

More forceful he continued, “You will not understand how you were ever able to fall for their pathetic charades.” He immediately regretted his harsh reply, because he knew it would not be helpful for the discussion.

However, instead of arguing with him she looked shocked and diverted the topic, “Aren’t you afraid of being on your own without their protection?”

“You mean the illusion of their protection?” He felt frustration and slight anger growing in him despite his best intentions to stay calm and empathise with her distress. Staring at her, he continued, “Why would you want to hold on to a delusion? Didn’t you just say there was 2 billion Vorta discussing accession to the Dominion who disappeared? You know how the Dominion works; you know clemency is not one of its strong suits.” Eris bowed her head for a moment, then looked up at him with eyes of steel, “As I explained, there will be good reasons.”

Weyoun saw how the conversation went in circles with all her desperate attempts to either dismiss or justify what was not defensible. No data could ever convince a Vorta like her to see fault in the Founders; this was cognitive dissonance in its purest form, he thought. It was a pointless discussion, where reasoning could not cut through denial.

He sighed and took her hands with a crooked smile, “All right. I see you have regained your composure. Tomorrow you will continue your work, and with time we will understand what happened.”

Although he was tired, he doubted he would sleep well this night.

****

Weyoun was still shivering due to the emotional upheaval from learning about the disappearance of so many Vorta when he met with Ezri the next morning. Grateful, he clutched the mug of hot raktajino she gave him.

“It’s Klingon,” she told him. “On Deep Space 9 we are all crazy for it.”

Weyoun sniffed it and decided his stomach was not ready for strong flavours today.

“Weyoun?” Ezri asked, looking up into his face, “is anything wrong?”

He tried a smile, “Oh, it is absolutely nothing. Nothing special,” he started off dismissively while attempting to broaden his smile reassuringly.

She took a sip and gazed at him above the rim of her mug, but remained silent.

“I only realised my perspective has changed on several issues since I don’t see the Founders as gods anymore. Isn’t it odd how the Vorta crave so much for their approval that they even mistake their patronising as a blessing?” He shook his head with a fake smile. “But that’s not important. I am just vain.”

“It is important for you. Did you expect the Founders’ gratitude?” He looked into the air like he was searching for something, ”No, at the time, I felt already honoured by their presence. I felt validated when they acknowledged my mere existence.” He shuddered at the thought of his last days as Weyoun 8, “It was somewhat different towards the end of the war, though. The Founder developed a bad temper, and I was afraid she would direct it against me.”

Ezri gave a wistful smile, “Frankly, this happens a lot in everybody’s work life, too. And there the bosses don’t even pretend to be gods.”

He felt a mix of anger and determination growing in him, so he focussed his glance at Ezri. “I feel like I have given so many of my lives … for what? For an immense deception. They thought they would never be able to win us as allies, so they forced us to be their slaves.”

Ezri was taken aback from this outburst of emotions and put her mug on the coffee table, ready to grab her padd to take notes.

His eyes were scintillating in lavender, “Current Vorta will always find justifications for the Founders. Even Eris, a smart woman, who has just learned that the Founders probably have committed genocide on our own people, will stand by them. And I can’t blame her. My predecessors did the same; my 8th reincarnation kept following the Founder’s wishes even when he knew we had lost the war.”

“Obviously, something has happened to you since I have seen you! Weyoun, what are you talking about? What genocide on Vorta?”

He gave a mirthless laugh, “In all candour: I am not certain of the details. However, every couple of days, Eris reveals new findings on this planet’s history. They are unsettling. In fact, they are sickening. It is like a colossal puzzle for which we are too scared to put the pieces together. But I am convinced the Founders are responsible for the disappearance of billions of Vorta.”

He went on to summarise everything he had learned from Eris in the past weeks, not withholding his conclusions. “Let me be crystal clear: Current Vorta will stay loyal to the Founders, regardless."

“But there were instances of Vorta who didn’t seem to have the unbridled devotion you just described. Maybe there is a middle ground?”

“Yes, some Vorta were behaving atypically.” Keevan and Weyoun 6 came up in his mind immediately. Then he thought about Weyoun 7’s willingness to sacrifice Odo to stop Weyoun 6, which was also slightly abnormal. “Sometimes, the genes didn’t work properly. As we discussed before, maybe different genomic imprinting.”

“You don’t think it was possible at all to make choices?”

Weyoun appeared uncomfortable as he was changing his position on the chair.

“Maybe for some of us, to some extent. But you would risk not only your termination, which in itself is not a pleasant thought but also the termination of your entire line, which is equivalent to death.”

“What does it mean for the future of Vorta society?”

“We cannot build a new autonomous society for Vorta as long as we carry these genes which stop us from thinking freely. And that we must. The Founders have no right to rule over us ever again. We need to remove this god gene as well as this insane submissiveness. There is no alternative.” Now he stared into his mug and swirled the contents. “For our sake, but also for the galaxy. We need to ensure the Founders never again have a species under their hand who act as their unquestioning tools. Neither Vorta, nor Jem’Hadar, nor any other.”

“I am sure Odo and Starfleet will be pleased to hear that you agree.”

Weyoun raised his head in surprise. “Oh. I see. It is all going according to plan, is it?”

Ezri sighed, “That is not what I meant. Nobody in Starfleet suspects that your people were murdered.”

Weyoun asked contemplatively, “Does Odo?”


	7. We Never Heal Until We Forgive (Nelson Mandela)

“Weyoun, come have a look,” Eris shouted from the living area.

The Vorta by this name got up from the floor in the bedroom, where he had spent the last hours reading yet another book about the war with the Federation Alliance. He strolled across the apartment to the couch, where Eris had set up her usual camp to work when she did not go to the office or an excavation site.

“One of my colleagues just sent this. Watch!” She pointed at the projection in front of her.

Weyoun bent forward with his arms behind his back and squinted. “What a handsome man,” he commented to Eris with a provoking smile.

“You are so humble,” she laughed. She knocked on the seat next to her, “Sit down,” to which he complied. “May I introduce to you the young and, according to well-informed sources, handsome Senator Weyoun Uldron.”

“Oh my, Senator, yes?” He frowned, still smiling.

“Yes, your noble progenitor was already an expert on lies and deceits.” She grinned, knowing that Weyoun wouldn't feel offended. “Here he gives a speech campaigning for Kurill to join the Dominion. According to the biography attached to this file, his contribution was elementary to Kurill’s unification with the Dominion.”

Weyoun kept his smile pinned to his face, “I see.” Eris beamed, “You can be proud of yourself to have served the Founders well!”

Weyoun nodded, “I am sure the Founders were pleased.” He saw how exhilarated Eris was and couldn’t bring himself to dampen her mood, although he felt somewhat disturbed by the news.

Eris shifted her position until she sat opposite to him so that she could watch him. Weyoun, who noticed her change in body language, wondered what would come next.

“There is also another piece of information,” she paused to study his face.

“And you are going to tell me?”

“The Senator had a wife,” she declared triumphant.

Upon noticing her cheerful manner, he asked, “Anyone I know?”

“Her name was Eris Arethoi, and she was a lecturer in archaeological anthropology at the University of Tira in the capital.”

For the first time, he felt this was good news. His wife. He smiled upon the archaic sign of a committed relationship he had encountered on many planets. However, it felt right; he couldn't think of a better partner.

“I am overjoyed we have a past going back to our progenitors! We always knew it! But isn’t it fascinating how you now pursue your original profession?”

She contemplated with a cocked head, “Yes, while we don't have access to our memories, we do seem to remember on a subconscious level. Whatever, this will be someone else’s research field.” She turned her gaze to the files, “At the moment it’s just this short bio and this speech we have found about you. I will let you know when more surfaces.”

Weyoun felt his heart sinking again. Although they still did not know the details of what had happened to the Vorta 2000 years ago, he didn't like the idea of having been involved in any way. With the file Eris’ colleagues had unearthed it appeared his progenitor had been at least part of the events leading up to it. He found it curious that Eris did not seem to mind. A few days ago, she had been disturbed about the presumed genocide on their people. But now she was unfazed about his potential role. Clearly, the Founders had succeeded to implant uncurbed devotion even the most disturbing facts couldn’t overcome.

He didn’t want to know any more about his previous role today and decided to distract her: “What would you say if we leave everything for tonight and visit the Interplanetary Complex. I have seen only parts of it on my way to my meetings with Ezri and Nedamali, but I hear it is quite vibrant in the evening.”

Eris consulted the clock, “We could go now; it is late enough.”

***

As the first showers of the monsoon season had arrived, they opted for the underground travelator system that gave them protection instead of walking through the park. The travelator system was almost empty. Few Vorta visited the Interplanetary Complex, and even fewer members of other species ever left their Complex to venture to areas inhabited by Vorta. Soon the travelator ended, and they entered a multi-storey building with shops and restaurants. The promenade sparkled with glamorous decorations. It was not full yet, but people were already sitting in the open restaurants or strolling along the shopfronts.

Weyoun saw a couple of Karemmas and Dorsas accompanied by Ferengis sitting in a bar - no doubt, the inter-quadrant trade had resumed after the war. He and Eris both had seen similar places on other planets, but here he enjoyed watching the peaceful mingling of former adversaries. Though, after a while, he couldn't help noticing that people were watching him - only him - and several of them were glaring at him with hostility, which he ignored with a friendly smile as well as he could. The shop with artisan crafts caught his attention, and he pulled Eris inside.

“From what I can tell, these items are from all over the galaxy,” he pointed around him with excitement.

Eris had picked up a Daqtagh, and stroked over the engravings.

“It is probably an effective weapon,” she observed with little interest.

Weyoun realised that this shop contained bric-à-brac from her point of view, where he saw pieces of art made with love for detail and expressing a cultural heritage waiting to be explored. Sadly, he could not share this impression with her. Nevertheless, he drew her to a corner where he had spotted a piece of jewellery a couple of days ago. He took the necklace from its rack and compared the colour of the amethyst inlays with Eris’ eyes. She watched him patiently, only to remark with one ironically raised eyebrow that they were the same purple as her eyes.

“I understand that you currently find such adornment pointless, but I can assure you, one day you might like it.” He was fascinated by the sparkling of the gemstone inlays. “It is pretty!”

“Do you think we should find something to eat?” She asked impatiently as her priority was to fill her stomach.

Weyoun resignedly put the necklace back.

“There is a Bajoran restaurant if you don’t mind. I have never had Bajoran food in my current incarnation. I would find it most intriguing to try a hasperat now. It is their most famous dish, and I have had it a couple of times on Terok Nor.”

“Great. I am hungry. Let’s go!” She took his hand and pulled him out of the shop.

After a couple of meters, he heard steps behind him getting closer than necessary. From the corner of his eyes, he saw someone strike out; he had just enough time to raise his arm to protect himself from the hail of blows. It all lasted only a few seconds when two Jem’Hadar guards pulled a man in a Starfleet uniform away from him. A crowd started to gather, most of them just curious, some concerned.

Weyoun straightened his clothes and smiled to the people, “Everything is fine. There is nothing to see here. Thank you. It is all good.” Turning to a third Jem’Hadar guard, he ordered: “This incidence is best forgotten. There is nothing to be gained from pressing charges.” He revolved on his heels to Eris, “Let us have dinner now.”

“I never expected you to be attacked here on Kurill.” Eris had trouble keeping pace with Weyoun, who was eager to leave the scene.

“Nor did I.” He stared with a neutral face into the distance to hide how much he was shaken up, while weaving through the people.

“I am sorry.” He turned his head to her.

“Why? There is no reason to be sorry. I am fine. Nothing we can’t fix with a dermal regenerator.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Surely, that man thought he had good reasons. But I don’t want to let him spoil our evening here.” With a reassuring smile, he gestured to the doubting Eris to enter the Bajoran restaurant. “Let’s take a table in a distant corner. For tonight we’ve had enough attention.”

***

Weyoun and Eris had just finished their meal when he realised that a Starfleet officer was walking towards their table. The man had a bottle with a blue liquid in one hand and was carrying three glasses in the other one. He didn’t look like he wanted to pick a fight, Weyoun concluded with relief. From this distance, he could not see the exact number of pips on the collar, but he seemed to carry a higher rank. Although he knew several species with blue coloured skin, he didn’t recognise this one. When the officer stopped opposite to him, Weyoun acknowledged him with a warm simper, “What can I do for you, sir?”

The officer’s antennae were pointing forward to him like they were a second set of eyes. He had the hint of a smile on his face when he introduced himself. “Captain Thahlar from the USS Kumari. May I join you with a glass of Andorian Ale?” Without waiting for an answer, he put down the glasses and poured the liquor. “Cheers!” He sat down and emptied the glass.

Weyoun was not sure what to think about the situation, but he and Eris drank theirs, too. “Cheers.”

“I want to apologise for my crewman’s attack. He is spending time on the brig, and will not set foot on Kurill again.”

“Thank you. But it was not necessary for you to apologise. I understand how the war still affects many people. It is all right,” Weyoun replied politely.

Thahlar leaned over, focussed on Weyoun’s eyes. “You are very kind. For some of my crew, it is indeed difficult to fathom how we turned so quickly from enemies to protectors. Here have another drink.”

Weyoun already started feeling dizzy from the effects of his first alcoholic drink in this body. It had a better mouthfeel than Kanar, he mused. He glimpsed at Eris who silently observed the situation but was still naturally immune to this toxin, whereas the genetic resequencing had removed this trait.

“Would you mind introducing me to your charming companion?” Thahlar hummed with an approving glance at Eris.

“My apologies, where are my manners? Captain, this is Eris. My … wife.” Weyoun and Eris quickly glanced at each other, given the new, still unfamiliar title.

”Have you known each other long?” Thahlar curiously asked.

Now Eris felt it was the time to take the initiative, “Several lifetimes,” she smiled.

Weyoun was distracted from the conversation, as he was busy observing the Ale’s effects on his cognition. Already an upbeat person by nature, he felt elated now. He noticed how Thahlar sat there with his legs apart, occupying more space than necessary. It amused Weyoun how many species had a similar concept of masculinity, and Thahlar exuded plenty. He, on the other hand, had always tried to assume a non-threatening body language, to be gracile, even vulnerable. The difference between a soldier and a diplomat, who can call upon the Jem’Hadar to menace a counterpart, he mused.

The Captain talked passionately, complimented by his antennae, which were most of the time upright, almost proud, but sometimes bent forwards or backwards to emphasise his words. “Only 200 years ago the founding members of the Federation mistrusted each other. Andoria engaged in border skirmishes with Vulcan for hundreds of years. However, we overcame these dark ages and look where we are now. I can’t see why this couldn’t be possible between our Quadrants.”

They toasted and downed another glass.

Weyoun remarked, “I admit I haven’t caught up on everything that has happened since my predecessor’s passing. But I find it quite remarkable that Starfleet helps to protect Kurill from former subjects of the Dominion.”

The Andorian jutted his chin and narrowed his eyes. “Nothing is being gained from allowing the former vassals of the Dominion to eradicate the Vorta. I am not familiar with the exact politics, still, I understand there are concerns whether a civil war could break out, encompassing the entire Quadrant, which would surely have repercussions on us as well.”

Eris nervously rubbed her hands, “Order needs to be maintained, or the Founders will be displeased.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about the Founders,” Thahlar growled with a hint of contempt, “but so far peace is holding.”

“Grace to your valuable contribution,” Weyoun chirped friendly.

Eris and Thahlar then engaged in polite conversation, whereas Weyoun’s thoughts veered off to the past. He could think of several species which would take the opportunity not only to gain independence but also to become rulers of larger sectors in their own right. He couldn’t quite follow his thoughts, because they seemed to disappear behind a fog. Thahlar was faring well, he acknowledged, as the glasses seemed to refill all the time magically. Then Eris made an awkward movement, tipping over his glass, with the contents spilling on his pants.

“Oh, sorry, how clumsy of me,” she apologised.

Weyoun couldn’t help suspecting purposeful intent and took a serviette to dry himself.

Eris addressed the Andorian while getting up: “Thahlar, it was such a pleasure talking to you. If everyone were as enlightened as you are, there would be peace in the entire galaxy. But I think we better go home now.”

Weyoun tried to add, “Yes, Eris is right. Captain, please accept our sincere gratefulness for your service in protecting Kurill. It is wonderful to have friends like you,” he clapped the Andorian on the shoulder.

But, before he was able to continue the longer unctuous speech he wanted to give about friendship and peace, Eris interrupted and pulled Weyoun’s sleeve. “We will take a transporter home. Thahlar, it was very nice meeting you. Please have a good time here on Kurill.”

Weyoun just saw how Thahlar waved a hand before suddenly being beamed to his apartment.

“What a nice man,” Weyoun slurred.

“Yes, he is. And I better get you an antidote, or you will be sick tomorrow.”

Weyoun managed to take his shoes off before curling up on the bed. “Eris, you are wonderful.”


	8. A Clear Conscience Is A Sure Sign Of A Poor Memory (Mark Twain)

Nedamali sat there with her usual unfazed expression. “You participated in suppressing the Cardassian resistance movement. How did you decide to destroy Cardassia Prime’s Lakarian City?”

Weyoun felt unwell but tried to calm himself. He had avoided thinking about the last days of the war, although he knew the topic would present itself at some point. He couldn’t justify the death of 800 million innocent people anymore, either. She was questioning the wrong Weyoun, he told himself, this hadn’t been him! He just happened to share his memory. He rubbed his temples and tried to focus. The thought of his last days on Cardassia hurt. He could barely face remembering his predecessors’ actions, let alone relive them with Nedamali. He didn't want to think about the past and didn't want to analyse every action in excruciating detail until they had ruminated it to death.

He straightened himself up, took a deep breath, and replied without emotions, “My predecessor, Weyoun 8, followed common well-established procedures in the case of an uprising of locals. In such instances, retaliation discouraging the population from further insurgence has been proven successful at several occasions in the past. Our projections suggested that would be the case again.”

“What sort of projections are you talking about?” Weyoun felt a pleasant numbness when he removed the people from the process and focussed only on the scientific and technical aspects. “The Dominion has developed simulation routines which take certain traits of a species into account, especially their cultural dimensions, and also how far the conflict is escalated and what relationship we had before the conflict.” “What cultural dimensions did you apply to the Cardassians?”

“Well, they are a very hierarchical society. So by asserting our dominance, Cardassians should have been submissive. Furthermore, they scored very high on the masculinity index, which is a parameter we apply to the appropriate societies.”

He thought about how both Dukat and Damar had more liking for women and Kanar than was befitting in times requiring their upmost focus on the tasks at hand.

“Again, a strong response from our side should have given us an edge.”

Talking about statistical variables felt very safe. It was a topic where he could keep an emotional distance.

“I was not involved in the details of the data entry, but I saw the results and the rationale was very compelling. However, as I understand, we underestimated the level of collectivism. Their social cohesion was probably the driving force for Cardassians to stand together and fight against the occupation.”

“Did you request approval from the Founder before you gave the order to the Jem’Hadar to destroy the city?”

He hesitated for a moment, before admitting: “It would have been very remiss of me not to include the Founder in such a decision. I suggested the destruction, and she immediately agreed. But it was not a formal approval. There was a war, and we were losing it, so she expected us to respond with full force.”

“Was this anticipatory obedience?”

Weyoun still couldn’t look at Nedamali and focused at a point on the ground. “Most certainly. As you know, Vorta are engineered to find fulfilment in serving the Founders _in all things_ , and with any means necessary.”

It pained him to acknowledge he didn’t just follow orders. He had known what the Founders demanded from him without saying. The anxiety, the panic of the last days surfaced in his memory. There was so much chaos, which the Founders did not tolerate at all. The Founder was sick and had become impatient. She had ordered the termination of the Vorta doctors who were failing to find a cure for her disease. Even at that time, it was a harrowing order proving that his people were disposable to the Founders. He knew she would have ordered his termination if another Weyoun clone had been available in the Alpha Quadrant. He remembered all too well his predecessor’s increasing anxiety.

“Were there any alternatives you considered?”

“No, as I stated before, these were well-established procedures based on the projections,” he whispered, almost inaudible.

“You didn’t doubt this course of killing two million civilian Cardassians, at all?”

He took a deep breath. “It didn’t matter what I was thinking. You see, the Dominion had organised itself in what is called _diffusion of responsibility_. Many species have examples in their history where such structure enabled some of the worst crimes their planets have seen. I believe Earth is one of them. In our case, the Founders outline the overarching goal, Vorta work out the strategy with the help of simulations, and the Jem’Hadar execute the strategy. When agency is divided, nobody has full responsibility, which protects all of us from self-condemnation: The Jem’Hadar only followed orders, whereas Vorta never killed anyone with their own hands. And finally, the Founders were usually not involved in individual activities; hence they don’t see themselves as perpetrators either. One could question the necessity of such a division given how Vorta and Jem’Hadar were engineered, but we have seen both species to be not 100% reliable.”

“Do you think the Founder would have accepted a different approach if you had suggested it?”

 _Could, would, should?_ He thought. “Possibly. At the time the present Founder was dying. She was barely evaluating the situation. But what was the alternative? Retreating to Breen territory? It was too far away.” Weyoun couldn’t suppress mockery: “Unfortunately, the closure of the wormhole stopped not only supplies but also a possible withdrawal to the Gamma Quadrant.”

He was no expert in warfare, but giving an enemy no options apart from either surrendering or fighting to total destruction bore the risk that they would choose the latter, especially when the Founder was doomed to die.

“You had mentioned before that the Founders were rarely involved with the day-to-day operations.”

Weyoun had gotten used to Nidamali's odd change of topics, her lack of interest in pursuing some themes, and focusing on others. Patiently he answered, “While this is true as a general rule, this particular Founder did concern herself a lot towards the end of the war. She was quite exceptional in this regard.” Weyoun had wished several times she had left operations to him and his allies. She had become unpredictable and unreliable. For short term gains, she had lied to the Breen, which would almost certainly have resulted in chaos.

“Do you think her participation was helpful?”

Even though this thought had crossed his mind just seconds ago, he still felt uncomfortable to admit that he had disagreed with many of her decisions. It was confusing. Is this how Weyoun 6 had felt? “I believe the war would have stopped earlier if it hadn’t been for her insistence to continue at all costs.”

“Could the genocide on 800 million Cardassians have been averted without her?”

Weyoun stared at the ground with wide-open eyes. “We will never know how the situation on Cardassia would have developed. It was a lost cause, but she had nothing to lose. It was only Odo who was able to stop her.”

“Would you have ordered the genocide if she had not been there?”

“I… I don’t know. It was not my idea. I hope I would not have. But I can’t be sure. A Vorta’s priority is to please the Founders, which drives us to all necessary measures.”

He thought of Eris’ findings and clenched his teeth. “And it has happened before - here on Kurill. On my people.”

For the first time, Nedamali looked up from her notes and studied Weyoun’s face. His eyes filled with tears as he thought of the death of billions of Vorta. “It disturbs me deeply how much violence the Dominion has exerted over the millennia. I am glad this will be behind us, and no Vorta will ever have to participate again.”

***

As usual, Weyoun opted to take the long walk through the parks instead of being transported to reach Ezri’s meeting room in the Transplanetary Complex. It also gave him enough time to collect his thoughts: His last meeting with Nedamali was still in his mind, although he had tried not to brood too much over it. Weyoun looked forward to meeting Ezri. It was good to talk to someone who could empathise with his conflicted reminiscences of the past, and she had always been kind to him. He had never felt a hint of accusation from her; nothing about her was menacing. Moreover, he found her constant flustering quite endearing.

The door to the meeting room opened on his buzz. She already sat there, with a padd in one hand and the inevitable steaming raktajino in her other.

Looking up to Weyoun, she asked “Hey, how is it going?” and put her padd to the side.

Weyoun gave a long sigh and sat down opposite to her with crossed legs and an impenetrable smile. “It is quite challenging at times. Probably more than I had anticipated.”

“Oh, did you have another difficult meeting with Nedamali?”

“Well, she is running my life at the moment. Isn’t she the reason for my existence?" he asked sarcastically.

“Is it that bad?” she furrowed her brows.

“I guess it depends on how I frame it.” He paused to consider his original concerns about revealing the Dominion’s way of working. “I thought I would feel disloyal to the Founders and the Dominion by cooperating with Nedamali - I am just trying here to avoid the term treacherous,” he added with an abashed laugh, “however, revealing everything I know about the Dominion turned out to be comparatively simple.”

Weyoun was still holding his composure, explaining with minimal gestures how the last meeting with Nedamali had focused on the genocide the Dominion committed on Cardassia. He cleared his throat to continue in a breathy tone, “While I sat there with Nedamali, I was able to rationalise, maybe even justify it. For my predecessor, there was little doubt about the course of action. He, I - look, I don’t even know which pronoun to use! I… didn’t have any second thoughts. It was a process that we followed. At the time, all orders given by the Founder and myself made sense. Be that as it may, now I feel very… uncomfortable, to say the least.”

His face had paled in his anguish. “Nedamali asked me whether I had attempted to find a different solution. And I keep wondering why I didn’t even try.”

“Have you tried to clarify the extent of your participation?”

Weyoun sighed, “Of course. It wasn’t me, it was a different Weyoun, the genetic conditioning didn’t allow for any other outcome. Leaving all responsibilities with the predecessors might work for a Trill because you integrate an entirely new person. Still, it doesn’t work for a Vorta. We remember everything as if it has been our own life.”

Ezri tried to empathise, “I totally get that for a Vorta the experience of a new life is a bit different than for a Trill. You are more like a continuation of the same person, whereas we incorporate several personalities with their pre-host experiences. ”

“My sentiments, exactly.” He moved restlessly on the chair, an unusual display of his inner mood. “It didn’t help that Nedamali kept going on: all the time she focussed on the genocide. And here I wonder whether I will be thinking about it for the rest of my lives? With every new clone again in painful clarity?”

“Weyoun, this is normal. Some aspects of our past are difficult to accept. There is no point mulling over it now. You will have to give yourself time.” Ezri studied his face with genuine concern. “Always remember, it was a different you. You couldn’t do anything, but to obey. Try to disassociate yourself.” She saw how her words didn’t get through to Weyoun and took his hand. “Alternatively, you could also embrace Weyoun 6 as part of your past. He tried to resist, but you see where it got him.”

“Unfortunately I have no memories of him, only what Odo told me. But I am sure he was right: the war would have taken a different turn. It would have been shorter; both sides would have suffered fewer casualties.”

Ezri tried to comfort him, “I see how you feel guilty. Don’t be too hard on yourself. With time, you will be able to compartmentalise and to move on.”

“The sorrow over my guilt may fade with years, Ezri. Though, do you know what really pains me? I know that every one of my clone successors will have to start over again. Living with fresh memories will be endless torture. The idea that I will vividly relive these emotions is … not very appealing, to say the least. Feeling guilt with every new activation is going to be a problem for most of the Vorta society, not only for myself.”

Ezri noted how the Vorta had slumped into his seat, appearing very vulnerable and fragile. “Couldn’t they remove some memories before a new activation?”

“Surely, this would be very convenient,” Weyoun mocked. “Where do you draw the line? Delete all the unpleasant events in our lives that make us grow and shape us to the personalities we are? I can see how Weyoun 10 walks past - let’s say - my valued colleague Keevan, without recognising him; thus letting him know how much I despised him by eradicating my memory of him. This would be a most exciting society to live in.” He sat upright again. “I apologise, Ezri, I know you are well-meaning. I think I am just a bit touchy at the moment.”

He hesitated to continue, as he knew his predictions about the future of Vorta were going to be challenging. He got up and stared out of the window with his hands clasped behind his back. He could feel Ezri’s gaze, so he turned around to Ezri and eyed her up. “The longer I think about it, the more appealing ceasing to exist becomes.”

He watched how Ezri tipped over her mug with raktajino and caught it before the entire contents spilled over the table. A compassionate smile crossed his face, amused by her flustering. He said to Ezri with a chuckle while righting her cup, “Don’t you worry, I am not weary of life yet. Quite the contrary, I am enjoying myself more than ever. Besides, a new Vorta society needs to be established, and I would not want to miss the opportunity to participate in creating the new order.”

He found it charming how she looked at him startled, unable to hide her shock. Returning to his chair, he explained slowly, “You see, eventually we will get tired of these lives. We reboot the same memories; we will relive the same pain. There is no escape. Our bodies might renew, but our souls will not.”

“Weyoun, you got your point across. We have a problem,” Ezri stuttered alarmed.

“Yes! It’s such an inconvenience that we develop a conscience now!” he almost laughed. “Isn’t it the best that can happen to the Galaxy?" His face softened when he stated, "It will become easier for our children.


	9. Till Death Do Us Unite

It was already dark outside, but Weyoun had not turned the lights on. He was lying on the couch, listening to a Kasseelian opera, which he enjoyed. He just hoped Kasseelians were versed in the art of cloning if they commit suicide as part of the performance, else it was such a waste of talent and training. He tried to calm himself by focussing on his breath.

He had spent the morning one last time with Nedamali, but this time Ezri attended as well. Instead of poking him with more questions, she had revealed how she and Ezri had been satisfied with Weyoun’s cooperation; how Weyoun had been able to convince them that the new generation of Vorta in general, but Weyoun, in particular, could become trustworthy partners of the Federation, independent from the influence of the Founders. _But not independent from the Federation?_ he had added in his thoughts.

No, he didn’t feel flattered. More humiliated, because it had become apparent how he had been dependent on their mercy. If this revelation was meant to be a reason to celebrate, then he failed to see the joy in it. They encouraged him to take on a more critical role in the new Vorta society, due to his experience with the Alpha Quadrant - _did they see the irony?_

Nevertheless, he couldn’t help smiling about how they had driven their agenda all the time. It turned out Federation officials had been concerned whether the removal of the genetic programming to serve the Founders sufficed or if he would remain irrevocably loyal to them due to habituation. He laughed at this thought; _nothing could be further from the truth._

He had learned only a few days ago the details of how Jem’Hadar fighters had left Kurill in ashes 2000 years ago on the command of the Founders once they had harvested the genetic profiles of volunteers deemed worth keeping. Apparently, many Vorta had a vague recollection of the escalation of violent events preceding the destruction of Kurill. These still echoed unconsciously in their memories which then expressed themselves as a subliminal despising of the Jem’Hadar.

Since last objections were out of the way, the Federation was ready to implement the genetic resequencing with all new clone activations, he was told. No, they didn’t ask whether the Vorta agreed - once more they would be violated. However, Weyoun conceded it was a necessary endeavour and committed himself to take on a leading position in re-building Kurill. He had spent the evening thinking about his next steps and knew what he had to do, but he felt nervous.

His train of thoughts was interrupted by Eris’ return. She turned the light on, dropped her bag and came to him. Weyoun got up, took her in her arms and gave her a long soft kiss with closed eyes.

“You are very affectionate today, Weyoun,” Eris whispered when he stopped.

“Yes, my dear,” he pulled her closer around her waist and kissed her again, this time parting her lips with his tongue to which she responded. She wrapped her arms around his chest and pressed herself at him. Slowly he glided one hand up her back while keeping her tight with the other one.

“I love you,” he purred between kisses.

She gave a little contented sigh, while his hand travelled further up. His heart was racing as his hand was anxiously travelling to her shoulders. He didn’t have to do it now. He could just enjoy the little kisses she was now planting on his collarbones. His fingers reached her neck where they stroked along her hairline. When he finally felt her termination implant under her skin, he took all his resolve and pushed it without hesitation.

Eris looked at him in shock, her face changing to a mix of anxiety and pain. Weyoun lifted and carried her to the couch, where he sat down with her head leaning on his shoulder. She kept staring at him, unable to speak, with only a few grunts crossing her lips. Weyoun wiped her tears away and struggled to suppress his own. His heart felt heavy. He stroked through her hair and observed how her face’s purple tint gave way to a grey shade; how veins appeared under her skin, first small, then slowly dilating. He had not expected her to suffer so much. He cradled her. “Shh. Shh.” _Everything will be fine_ , he told himself, kissing her forehead.


	10. Epilogue

Weyoun shifted his daughter to his left hip while walking on the stage towards the crowds, waving his right arm. Karra was two years old now, one of the first naturally conceived Vorta in 2000 years, but their numbers were increasing.

He had won a seat in the Senate only by a small margin, but he had won. His ideas were not popular with the old Vorta; his voters came primarily from the new generation of clones who agreed with the necessity to gain independence from the Founders and were ready to move on to a new society.

He stopped waving, nudged his daughter’s nose and affectionately gazed at her before handing her over to Eris, who was beaming at them. With a dignified smile, he turned to the crowd of cheering supporters.

“To all my fellow Vorta. These are taxing times; times of incredible upheaval of everything we have known. The Founders have decided to release us from their service. Our position as their foremost servants overseeing this part of the galaxy ceases to exist; we will be one species of many, one of equals. And we will be free.”

The crowd cheered.

“This freedom comes at a price. We see the past in a new light: we have committed unspeakable crimes in the name of our so-called gods, we see the incredible pain we have brought to many worlds; we cannot - we shall not - forget. In fact, as long as we are clones recalling each of our predecessors’ lives, we will remember our deeds, and yes: they will haunt us.”

He paused to observe the audience’s reaction. Many had lowered their eyes to the ground, and it had become quiet. From the corner of his eyes, he thought he saw Nedamali for a second, but when he focused on her, it was a Vorta who observed him with a neutral face. He hesitated for a second, as a realisation dawned upon him. He pulled himself together and continued his speech addressing the crowd.

“We also see now the incredible price our noble progenitors had paid. First, the Founders had deceived them. The Founders told us they were gods and took prey of an unassuming, innocent people who had worshipped them for thousands of years based on what we can only describe as a fairy tale.”

Weyoun returned his gaze to the shape-shifter and raised his voice to convey his anger.

“They ordered the death of our noble progenitors. They violated our species by making us their subservient slaves. They made us tools in their relentless expansion of the Dominion and the merciless suppression of all solids who were not willing to submit to their order. Many of you still find this difficult to conceive that our beloved gods are in fact instigators of countless genocides including on our people.”

Unnerved by her usual aloof expression, he looked away from her and turned towards his family.

“However, we must march forward and embrace our future. Now we are being given back what the Founders had taken from our noble progenitors: a world our senses can now fully appreciate, and the ability to reproduce.”

Having regained his composure, he concluded, “We are here now to establish a new society, independent and self-determined. We will define a future that has a place for love and the laughter of children: They will give our new society a focus, they will be the reason why our thoughts can turn towards the future and don’t need to stay stuck in the past. With them, our society will have the ability to change and to adapt. They will give us hope.

Thank you, dear fellow Vorta, for entrusting me with your confidence to shape this future.”

He took Karra, lifted her on top of his shoulders, and waved to his rapt audience, with a self-assured smile.

“Nobody can take our future away anymore!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Indeed, god genes seem to play a part in people’s religiosity: https://www.nature.com/articles/ng1204-1241
> 
> For the projections of Cardassian's behaviour I applied Hofstede’s Cultural Dimensions, a well-established framework to analyse cultural communication.
> 
> Many times I lean on WW2 and Nazi-Germany to explain the Dominion:
> 
> “Diffusion on responsibility” is often quoted as one of the reasons people participated in Nazi-German genocides.
> 
> Hannah Arendt: “Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil” explains that Eichmann was “neither perverted nor sadistic”, but “terrifyingly normal”. Like our Weyoun.
> 
> In post WW2 many German Nazi officials returned to their previous positions in West Germany. Denazification stopped when West Germany became an ally with the Western powers due to the Cold War. It is not surprising to see Weyoun resume responsibility in the new order - and being encouraged by the Federation.


End file.
